


Every Fiber Is Begging

by mzhlf



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-08
Updated: 2017-07-08
Packaged: 2018-11-29 13:59:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11442342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mzhlf/pseuds/mzhlf
Summary: General Danvers Week 2 - Day Five - Canon Divergence AUAlex spends more than a month as a prisoner of Cadmus. This is what happens after her rescue.





	Every Fiber Is Begging

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not gonna lie folks. I got pretty frustrated at this, and am only posting it now because otherwise it's highly likely that I never will, and I'm determined to get seven stories up for GDW dammit. >_<
> 
> Also... there's... some squick factor involved, that I'm not even sure how to tag. Just, brace yourself for dodgy quality and dodgy content. I am so sorry. This is probably another one I'm gonna end up doing some major revision on.
> 
> Anyway, happy GDW~ I can't wait to read everyone's fics.
> 
> The title was taken from The Fjords - All In.

When Alex wakes up, Kara doesn’t shed a single tear. That is her first clue that something is seriously wrong.

It isn’t that Kara hasn’t been worried sick. She hovers around her bedside all but constantly, adjusts her pillow, and blows on her water to make it cold. A blanket lays crumpled by the chair next to the bed, and her eyes are red from sleepless nights. But she doesn’t launch herself into Alex’s arms, doesn’t weep into her shoulder while Alex strokes her hair.

Since they were teenagers, it’s been Alex’s habit to focus more on Kara’s feelings, and Kara’s habit to focus more on her own. But this time, Kara doesn’t seek comfort at all. Her movements are careful and delicate even when they hug. Alex squeezes more tightly with arms she hasn’t used in over a month than Kara does with all of her superhuman strength.

After about five minutes of this, Alex decides to get on with it.

“So,” she starts jokingly, pinning Kara with a knowing look. “How long do I have?”

Kara sighs, and her stomach sinks. “There’s really no good way to say this.”

Alex pushes back a tendril of paranoid dread and covers it up with bluster. “Oh come on. Out with it. Pretend like you’re ripping off a bandaid.”

Kara stares at her for a long moment with an indiscernible expression. “Alex, you’re pregnant.”

Alex’s first reaction is to crack a smile, but when Kara doesn’t show any sign of smiling back, the expression freezes on her lips. Acid churns in her gut until it burns with nausea. “How?” she asks, the single syllable passing almost inaudibly between them.

“You and J’onn weren’t the only ones we found in that facility,” Kara starts to explain.

 _Cadmus._ Alex nods stiffly.

“They had Aunt Astra.”

Astra. _Astra._

Alex remembers the weight of the sword in her hands, remembers how the long blade sank smoothly into Astra’s turned back like she was cutting into a lump of wet clay. Skin, muscle and bone split in visceral echoes of collision against her palms, vibrant life bleeding out in the wake of her destruction. Like ripping a sheet of paper or wrecking a stuffed toy. Alex had struggled to reconcile Astra’s brilliance with how simple it had been to snuff it out. Her fierce sense of honor, her sharp mind, the smiles that burned low in Alex’s belly, everyone she loved and everything she’d seen, all distilled into that one graceless moment and left to crumble like sand.

“They got ahold of her pod,” Kara’s voice brings pieces of Alex back to the present. “If it hadn’t been for you and J’onn, we would’ve never known.”

 _If it hadn’t been for me, she never would have been in that pod in the first place,_ Alex thinks guiltily. After Kara leaves, she’ll indulge in that tiny, self-loathing sense of gratification. It’ll seem poetically fitting, that her capture had ultimately led to Astra’s rescue, a penny repaid of that insurmountable debt of pain.

But right now, any guilt she feels is overshadowed by shock that spreads into a strange, disconnected surrealness. It’s like she’s fallen out of sync, dragged along from one moment to the next but always lagging one step behind.

“They wanted to introduce Kryptonian genetics into human populations,” Kara says, as the fan in the vent whirrs in a steady, soothing drone.

“They used… they used women,” Kara continues, as one of the light flickers a wink and someone clears their throat in a room down the hall. “They used _you._ The vast majority of the embryos were unviable. Yours was the only one that took.”

Footsteps stroll past the closed door that leads out to the hallway. Alex recognizes Vasquez’s voice over staticky radio chatter. The heart monitor beeps slow and steady next to her bed. The needle in her arm itches a bit.

Kara is looking at her cautiously, prepared for Alex to fall apart, ready to piece her back together at the first sign of cracking.

But Alex merely nods.

She understands the meaning of her words. She understands that she’s pregnant, that the child is Astra’s, and that Astra is alive. She processes all of this on a logical level, even as the rest of her brain struggles to catch up.

“Okay,” she says in the meantime.

* * *

 

Over the next week, Alex has many visitors.

Kara is a near-permanent fixture by her bedside. James brings over the latest Catco magazine and a couple of books. Winn lends her his PS Vita. Eliza stops by for awhile and for once they actually manage to keep things pleasant.

J’onn hobbles in on the third day and falls into the chair by her bed. The low cadence to his voice is soothing, even as he mostly updates her on DEO goings-on. There had been a lot of classified information in that facility, evidence of experiments and practices that would generate public outrage should it ever be disseminated. In exchange for their discretion, the government has been willing to make some concessions. As the dust settles, Hank Henshaw is still the Director, and they are both cleared of all charges.

After that first conversation with Kara, no one mentions Astra.

If it isn’t for Dr. Rasal discussing the pregnancy with her, Alex might think that whole conversation had been imagined.

Alex learns that she is not merely a surrogate: the child she is carrying is, in fact, genetically hers.

It’s been four days since she learned that Astra was alive, but there has been nothing to replace that last, desolate memory of her. Everyone she cares about has come by at least once, but there is no sign of Astra herself.

Alex starts having to ignore a flutter of anticipation every time the door opens, and a pinch of disappointment when it invariably turns out to be someone other than the woman who’s taken up residence in her thoughts.

By day six, Alex imagines the worst, her mind painting morbid pictures of whatever tortured state Kara must have found her in. If Cadmus had been willing to use Alex as an incubator without her consent, than what horrors might they have committed upon someone from a different world?

On day seven, she finally gives in.

* * *

 

Kara grimaces a little at her question, though it’s less grim and more exasperated. Had Alex been that obvious about her worrying? “Aunt Astra? She’s fine. They’re still monitoring her every move, but she’s excelled at every mission she’s handled so far.”

“Oh.” Alex smiles, but it feels artificial.

The knowledge that she’s well enough to go on missions should bring her nothing but happiness. Why then, does her heart feel bruised?

“Well, that’s great news,” she forces herself to say.

Kara smiles warmly and Alex tries her best to mirror it.

* * *

 

Alex reminds herself that she has absolutely no right to feel hurt or offended.

Astra didn't consent to this any more than she did. Even before Alex stabbed her in the back, their interactions weren’t exactly anyone’s definition of nice. Astra doesn’t owe her any friendly concern, and it’s not her responsibility to provide Alex with any kind of emotional support. The child’s conception was a violation upon both of them. Astra has every right to keep her distance.

Alex’s mind often drifts to the pregnancy.

Her first thought is to get rid of it, of course. Cadmus took away her agency and treated her like nothing more than a test tube. Why should she give life to the product of their cruelty?

But she needs to recover her strength a little more before they’re willing to operate. As she squeezes the hand-grip in her physical therapy session, she imagines her fingers clenched tightly around the neck of whoever had done this to her.

But soon enough, that initial feeling of visceral disgust slithers into the background, and pragmatism slips into its vacated seat.

Alex has always seen herself becoming a mother at some point in her life. It’s kind of an item on her bucket list, like firing a Russian RPG or going big wave surfing in Hawaii, but bigger and higher up.

Being gay and perpetually single, she’d figured that it would take a great deal of planning and cost an arm and a leg. She’d resigned herself to forking over tens of thousands of dollars at a sperm bank, or spending years on a waiting list at some adoption agency. And that’s assuming she somehow manages to find a nice girl willing to put up with her irregular work hours and crazy life.

Alex starts to weigh her options.

If Astra had been the one to do this to her, there would be absolutely nothing to consider. That the child is not the genetic offspring of some unscrupulous Cadmus higher-up distances it from her disgust. That the child is hers definitely helps.

That the child is Astra’s… actually doesn’t hurt.

Oh, there’s the gorgeous looks. The superpowers. The intelligence. That fierce loyalty to her loved ones. The limitless passion for her ideals. If Astra hadn't been driven to desperate measures that involved enslaving entire civilizations, Alex might actually like her.

Could she even find a donor that ideal if she tried?

* * *

 

Alex first broaches the subject with her doctor.

“So, hypothetically. And I mean _hypothetically._ If the procedure doesn’t happen - the abortion I mean. So if I hypothetically decided to carry her to term - not that that’s actually what I’m planning to do - but if I were to, maybe, start to consider it... would she end up bursting out of my chest?”

“Well…” Her doctor considers it for a moment. “She wouldn’t start having powers until she’s at least a week old, so the pregnancy itself would be perfectly normal. You’d need to be monitored closely by doctors familiar with both human and Kryptonian physiology. But,” she gives her a joking smile, “you _are_ in the DEO. I’d say you’re probably safe.”

So there’s also that.

* * *

 

J’onn seems more than willing to be flexible with her work hours.

“Children have a way of bringing out the best in us, Danvers,” he says, memories of other lifetimes flickering through his gaze. “If this is what you decide, then I will support you however I can.”

* * *

 

It takes another week for her to resume her duties, and even then she hasn’t fully regained her strength. Whatever concoction of drugs Cadmus had pumped into her bloodstream was carefully designed to keep her unconscious and immobile, while avoiding any damage to their investment.

It doesn’t take long for Alex to run into Astra.

The encounter is completely unplanned. Alex is coming out of the training room, supporting herself with a hand against the wall, when she sees that distinctive white streak in the doorway. Gray eyes flicker unintentionally to hers, and her heart stops.

This moment has played out numerous times in her head, but she’s still not prepared for the sight of Astra standing before her, poised, full of life, and every bit as formidable as she remembers. The DEO-issued uniform is a fairly dramatic change from her Kryptonian military bodysuit, but no less flattering.

“Hi!” she blurts artlessly, even more breathless than she thought she’d be from the session she’d had in the gym, especially after having already washed up.

Alex expects there to be fireworks. She expects that alluringly dangerous smile to curl upon Astra’s lips. She expects her eyes to darken with an unspoken dare. She expects tension to thrum palpable and dizzying between them.

What she doesn’t expect is a polite nod and a smile.

“Alex,” Astra says by way of greeting. “I am glad to see that you’re looking better.” Her body language betrays no particular surprise or happiness, no wariness or tension. Her words are identical to the quick hellos Alex has gotten from people she sees in passing but doesn’t personally know.

“Thanks,” she replies, a little caught off-balance by the weird formality. “So are you,” she adds without thinking.

Astra’s lips twitch into a wry smirk. “You don’t say,” she quips. Oh, _shit._ Alex’s face prickles with embarrassed heat, because Astra was in _really_ bad shape the last time they saw each other and Alex _really_ didn’t need to be the one pointing that out. Astra doesn’t look angry, just mildly amused - she supposes that’s a good sign at least.

Alex’s mouth works soundlessly, but before she gets the chance to start that conversation, Astra’s eyes drift distractedly to a clock on the wall.

“I’m sorry Alex, I really would love to talk, but I’m to supervise a sparring session between the new trainees in about…” she cringes subtly, “thirty-seven seconds.”

“Ah.” Alex moves closer to the wall so that she’s not in the way. “By all means,” she chirps with forced cheer. “Can’t set a bad example to the rookies after all.”

“I’m sure we’ll meet again soon,” Astra clasps her briefly on the shoulder, and then strides off without a single backward glance.

* * *

The worst case scenarios were always resentmentful and acerbic, playing out like scenes from a soap opera, full of simmering betrayal and bold accusations. Some of them had Astra refusing to look at her at all. In one fantastically paranoid version, Astra pulverizes her with heat-vision within the first two seconds of seeing her.

This polite nonchalance actually makes Alex wonder if getting singed would have been the worst thing in the world.

She wonders if Astra has thought about her at all. Wonders if she exists in Astra’s mind the same way Astra exists in hers. Wonders if the belligerent tension she remembers between them was nothing more than the product of some lurid fantasy.

Then again, maybe Alex is reading too much into it. Astra was, after all, in a hurry.

But, as it turns out, that awkward and protracted conversation at the gym was no fluke.

If politeness could kill, Alex would be toast. Polite friendliness when she catches her eye through the window of the examination room. Polite interest across the table as they share meals with Kara and her friends. Polite cooperation during debriefings. Always just pleasant enough. Only takes initiative when it’s pertinent to the mission. Never expresses any strong emotion, never gives more than stock replies when Alex tries to engage her, never seeks Alex out, never inquires after her health, never even acknowledges the pregnancy.

“So, I was just wondering if you wanted to join me for lunch?” Alex asks one day, finally biting the bullet, figuring that the cafeteria is a nice, neutral place they talk, where they’d be by themselves but not quite alone.

But Astra declines with an apologetic shake of her head. “I am not very hungry yet, though I appreciate the invitation. Perhaps another time.”

Alex has never known a Kryptonian not to be hungry, but neither does she miss the subtle dismissal unaccompanied by any returned attempt to make concrete plans. The implication sits jaggedly in Alex’s throat.

It might be an easier pill to swallow if Astra were completely cold, if all she sensed from her was resentment or apathy. But she seems, if anything, protective of Alex.

Eyes on her while they’re out on missions, a steady presence at her back. As a team, they coordinate seamlessly, predict each other’s moves so accurately that they oftentimes forgo words. Astra is an expert at Alex’s body language, knows when she’s about to charge recklessly into danger, and has taken blows for her on numerous occasions.

Once, a particularly aggressive Valdorn lunges for Alex’s throat, and before she even has time to make a fist, Astra counters the attack with such quick and brutal ferocity that he flies through several walls and hurtles lengthwise through a construction truck full of bricks.

Alex should feel a bit insulted. She sees the attack coming, spends countless hours training for situations just like it. Their mission is to apprehend him so that they can interrogate him about the whereabouts of his accomplices. Risking a brain injury is counterproductive to those goals.

But Alex can’t even find it in herself to be upset. The sheer power radiating through Astra’s body, the heat from her proximity, the way she puts herself between Alex and harm’s way, that fierce protectiveness, breathes new life into neglected hope.

But then Astra catches her breath, and that fierceness fades back into colorless detachment.

As they load their new prisoner into the transport van, Alex makes one last ditch effort to have this conversation she’d been meaning to start.

“Wait,” she says, just as Astra’s getting ready to fly back, and gestures with her head for them to walk so that they could converse out of earshot of the others.

“Is there something wrong?” Astra asks as they stop near a tree at the side of the road.

“No,” Alex reassures her. “It’s just… we haven’t really gotten the chance to talk.”

It takes Astra a second to discern her meaning. “Is this about the child?”

“Yes,” Alex pauses for a beat. “Well, kind of. I also haven’t properly apologized for what I -”

Astra forestalls her with a hand. “There is nothing to apologize for. I threatened the life of your Director, and you did what you had to do.”

“It’s true that I had to stop you,” Alex allows, “but I should have aimed somewhere else. Or issued a warning. You didn’t deserve that,” she says.

“I would have done the same in your position,” Astra says easily, lifting her shoulders like it’s no big deal. “But if it matters to you that much, then I forgive you.”

Alex nods, hating the silence that stretches on between them. Has it always been this awkward between them? “Right and uh, about that other thing.”

Astra sighs softly and for a moment, she looks a little bit uncomfortable. But the expression is almost indistinguishable from her annoyance, and it makes Alex a little sorry to have bothered her in the first place. “To be perfectly honest with you, I have no opinion on the matter,” she says mildly. “The choice is entirely yours.”

Her lack of emotion stings more than a little, although by now, Alex is hardly surprised. “No thoughts? No preference?” Alex succeeds in keeping the hurt from seeping into her voice out of sheer, stubborn pride.

“I would support whatever decision you make,” Astra says conclusively, before cocking her head. “Now, was there anything else?”

“Nope.”

* * *

 

Alex lets her wayward hopes fly into the wind.

She works out until she can barely lift her arms. She goes on dinner dates and laughs and flirts on all the right cues, but melancholy clings to her bones like a shroud. She shares tender kisses by dimly lit doorways, but her heart is wooden in her chest. An old bottle of whiskey tempts her from the shelf. She pours it down the drain and immediately regrets it.

It takes Dr. Rasal pointing out that she needs to make an actual decision soon, that Alex realizes with a lurch of shame that she’d spent more time moping than doing research or making plans.

That night, she drives to a high building with rooftop access, stands before a sea of city lights gleaming under overcast skies, and takes inventory of what she knows.

Her feelings for Astra are not platonic. Maybe they never have been.

Astra doesn’t feel the same way.

Maybe there had been a small, irrational part of her that fantasized that this would somehow bring them closer. Maybe she had avoided making a decision because she wasn’t entirely sure if it was really the child she wanted, or simply the union that it represented.

Whatever it was she’d been looking for, no longer exists. Whether it was left behind on a rooftop in the night, or if it had simply been a figment of Alex’s wishful thinking, no longer matters. They both lead to the same conclusion: that Astra is not hers.

As the first droplets of rain fall onto her face, Alex can’t help but smile, feeling strangely liberated by the secure weight of certainty. The unexpressed frustrations of the past two months fall away like withered leaves, and even though heavy gray rain clouds obscure the sun, Alex has stepped out from within the darkest shadow of all: hope.

In the time it takes FaceTime to connect, it’s raining quite steadily. Kara frowns at her with worry from the screen of her phone. “Alex? What’s going on? Is something - are you actually outside right now?”

Alex can only grin. “Kara, I’ve decided!” she raises her voice a little to be heard over the choir of raindrops falling against the roof she’s standing on. “I’m keeping her!”

Kara’s mouth falls open. “What?” she says. The shock on her face suggests that she’d gotten her meaning the first time, but she might need to hear it twice to fully believe it.

“I’m gonna be a mom, and you’re gonna be an aunt-cousin-person!”

Tears spring to Kara’s eyes, and her hand goes to her mouth, although her joyful reaction is cut short by something crashing behind her.

She turns back to the camera, shaking her head with exasperation. “Alex? You and I are gonna have to celebrate tomorrow. But I have to let you go, because you’re about to have company.”

A clap of thunder rattles her eardrums, and the connection cuts out. Alex wipes her phone on her shirt, tucks it into her pocket, and starts making her way back to the door that led out to the roof.

The sensation of water against her scalp suddenly stops.

There’s a black umbrella above her head, and standing beneath it with her with tears in her eyes, looking at her like she holds the universe in the palm of her hand, is -

“Astra,” Alex utters in surprise.

“Did you mean it?” she questions. There’s a thinness to Astra’s voice and her lips are slightly chapped and shadows creep from underneath her eyes, and she looks to be on the verge of unravelling. The polite, unflappable calm that Alex has come to associate with her is nowhere to be seen.

“Yes I did,” Alex answers sincerely. But then she remembers how distant Astra has been and braces herself for an attempt to talk her out of it, or a stiff congratulations. “Is that okay with you?” she pushes for a less ambiguous reaction.

Astra nods quickly, and Alex silently lets out a breath. They stand there in the sound of the rain as Astra takes a few minutes to gather her composure.

“If it’s alright with you, I would very much like to be a part of her life,” Astra says.

Alex’s answer comes in a heartbeat. “Of course. She’s yours too.”

Astra gives her a wavering smile, which widens into a teary beam. “Thank you, Alexandra. I had given up on this dream a long time ago, back on my own world when Rao did not see fit to gift me with a child of my own. To have this opportunity now, with you -”

Alex feels a sympathetic tug in her chest and gives her arm a reassuring squeeze. “I think you’ll be a wonderful mother.”

Astra pulls her into a fierce hug which she gladly reciprocates. It hurts a little, but she allows Astra to bask in the moment, gives her this moment to celebrate the path their lives have just taken.

* * *

Astra’s behavior shifts so much overnight, that it gives Alex whiplash.

Yesterday, she determined to keep their relationship cordial but distant. Today, she practically glues herself to her side.

Alex opens the door to the balcony of her apartment to Astra sitting there, breakfast laid out on the little table, steam from the bakery overs curling up into the sunrise. Astra moves around her schedule so that they can train together and hovers just a few inches away during their debriefing. She flies them all the way to New York City to have amazing Peruvian food for lunch. She talks freely about her childhood on Krypton and the customs she’d like to carry forward. She rests her chin on Alex’s shoulder as they scroll through lists of girls’ names on her phone.

Alex lets her have this. The pangs of fruitless yearning will fade eventually, but she will not deprive herself of a budding friendship with a remarkable woman who happens to be the mother of her child.

The excitement doesn't fade the next day. Or the next week. If anything, Astra has only gotten more and more involved. Astra accompanies Alex to her next Friday check-up, and the one after that. She reads all about human pregnancy on the internet and practically force-feeds Alex all kinds of nasty-tasting health foods. And when Alex accuses her of being a terrible General who commands from the sidelines rather than dies with her soldiers on the battlefield, Astra steps bravely to the challenge and they grimace through puke-green smoothies together.

Alex resolves herself to think nothing of it.

But then, there’s the unnecessary touching - a hand at the small of her back, arms lingering around her torso seconds after they’ve already touched the ground, thigh flush against hers as they sit side by side, fingertips on her face, hand on her arm, lips pressed against her cheek, lips pressed against her jaw, lips pressed against her temple.

God, and then there’s the unnecessary staring - gray irises darkening as they focus on her face and drift very slightly downward from making eye-contact, lingering on her body in the gym, and as the curvature of her torso begins to change, it only gets worse and worse.

Astra brings Alex gourmet dessert one day, cooks for her the next, and invites her to watch a scary movie the day after. An overnight mission elsewhere has Alex eating breakfast by herself for the first time in weeks, but then she shows up to work to find a Russian RPG wrapped up in a big frilly box with a single red rose sitting on top of it, and Susan Vasquez dying of laughter.

That’s when Alex finally decides to say something.

“You know we don't have to be a couple in order to coparent a child, right?”

“I know,” Astra answers her. “But is this not something you desire?” she asks, a vague hint of fear flickering in her eyes, and Alex is overcome with pity. Even now, Astra is afraid of this being ripped away from her again.

“Oh Astra,” Alex sighs. “I would never stand in the way of you having a relationship with our daughter, unless you gave me reason to protect her from you. And if I ever slip down a dark path myself, I hope you’d be willing to do the same. You never needed to win me over.”

Astra stares in disbelief. “You thought this was all for her?”

Alex raises her shoulders. “Isn't it?”

“Oh, dear one, _no_ ,” Astra answers emphatically, drawing her in close and laying her hand over her cheek. ”There’s never been a moment, ever since we met, that I didn’t long for you.”

Old hurt seeps into Alex’s gaze without her permission, even as hope grasps at her mind, seeking to draw her back under its influence. She takes a distancing step back, more than a little mistrustful of the logical inconsistency between Astra’s words and her previous actions. ”You could have fooled me,” she says.

But Astra doesn’t allow the distance. “Alex, please understand,” she implores, “What Cadmus did to you was unconscionable. I wanted to kill the so-called scientists that took away your agency, and I would have done anything to see the reigns to your future returned to you. But I also wanted so very much to -”

“You wanted to convince me to keep the child,” Alex realizes, putting her hand over her stomach.

Astra nods, eyelashes wet with tears. “I couldn't allow myself to influence your decision. You didn't deserve to be burdened with my regrets. And I know, that if I’d spent more than a minimal amount of time - if I’d let you seen my heart even a little, I wouldn’t have been able to hide it.”

Every interaction they’ve had from the time Alex woke up flash through her mind, and Alex finally understands. “You would have given up on motherhood if it meant I could choose freely.”

Astra shrugs almost shyly. “For what it’s worth, I’d planned on seeking you out eventually, even if you’d chosen differently.” She considers for a moment. “Perhaps it would have taken awhile - I would needed some time to grieve. But,” she gazes softly at Alex, “a world in which I didn’t want you is frankly beyond my ability to imagine. I am truly sorry for having made you think otherwise.”

Alex rolls her eyes and shakes her head. Of all the useless, sentimental -

She pulls her into a bruising hug, and presses her lips to Astra’s.

It is a chaste kiss, but still she leaves the General speechless.

“Understand this,” Alex says, emphasizing her words with both hands on either side of Astra’s face. “I may be human, but I am not made of glass. Even if I hadn’t been ready to be a mother, even if I didn’t want children ever, I might have considered being a surrogate for you if only you’d told me.”

Twin spots of embarrassment darken Astra’s cheeks and she looks properly chastised. “... I see.”

“From now on, we deal with problems together, alright? No more pretending.”

Astra nods. “Understood,” she agrees docilely, although her gray eyes drift downward moments later. “But if it’s alright with you, I would like to kiss you again.”

And that, Alex more than willingly obliges.

**Author's Note:**

> ...with apologies to Wonder Woman and the Alien franchise and anything else I may have referenced.
> 
> Comments, yay. Constructive criticism, yay.


End file.
